Born in New Zealand and now based in Los Angeles, the artist Emma McIntyre is no stranger to frequent travel. But the vibrant art scene of Hong Kong, the site of her second exhibition with David Zwirner, is a bit farther afield than even McIntyre ever imagined herself. Titled Among my swan, a name she’s borrowed from Mazzy Star, the show demonstrates the artist’s taste for chromatic abstractions that transcend the limits of language. “By introducing the swan motif,” McIntyre told Richard Hawkins last month, “I can connect to all the painted swans in art history.” She does so using oil paint alongside unconventional materials like oxidized iron, a gambit, Hawkins says, that suggests McIntyre’s granular attention to her artistic forbearers. “I think the difference is your investment in the history of painting,” he says, “but also how closely you look at other paintings.” Fresh off his own show at Hong Kong’s Empty Gallery, The Garden of Loved Ones, he and McIntyre got on a Zoom to discuss their shared obsessions: Baudelaire, art historian Michael Levey, and painting with your body, literally.
As part of Oslo Open ’25, Doris Guo and other artists will be opening their studios from April 26-27 this weekend.
As the roof caved in on the empire of the US dollar, a son of the diaspora returned to an art market buzzing despite censorship and mass exodus. Enter the Chinese century?
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Hong Kong, a Special Administrative Region of the People’s Republic of China, lives in an area of my mind with high green hills and banquet halls and concrete residential towers whose balconies jut like vertebrae along spines made of stone. Wild boar roam the hills in the dark. Political prisoners in the Stanley jail bake in humidity and sweat without any air-conditioning. Jet-lagged from New York, I was taking a nap one afternoon in our hotel on the southern coast of Hong Kong Island, and was dreaming that someone I loved was handing me a piece of paper. I began pulling at it with both hands – it was blank, no message – until I felt someone kissing my face.
Stephen Cheng on Ten Years of Empty Gallery, Jaime Chu, Spike Art Magazine
The founder of Hong Kong art’s black cube on sheltering artists from the system, programming as film-making, and the experimental drug called jet lag.
When I first moved back to Hong Kong as an adult in 2023, a new friend tried to recommend me cool things to do: “During a performance at the closing party for Vunkwan Tam’s show at Empty last year, [owner of noise label Mouhoi] Cedric Ng punched a sink until his hands bled.” They knew what to say, but they didn’t have to try so hard. In Hong Kong, historically an entrepot dominated by blue-chip galleries, unwieldy semi-private institutions, and a constellation of independent art spaces surviving precariously under colossal real estate conditions, Stephen Cheng’s Empty Gallery occupies an eclectic yet somehow exacting niche. It’s where minimalist experimental music, Japanese conceptual art and its heirs, and sculptural and filmic practices at the forefront of the Asian diaspora converge in a renovated industrial space notorious for its dark, cavernous interior. Friends who don’t otherwise care for contemporary art bring themselves to the hour-long queue for the gallery’s annual rave, and its artists have found genuine interlocutors within an industry that does not always afford them time.
Our current solo exhibition of Richard Hawkins, The Garden of Loved Ones, opened on March 23, 2025, and was written up in the following publications: The best shows to see in Hong Kong ahead of Art Basel, Payal Uttam, Art Basel Nine Solo Shows to See in Hong Kong, Spring 2025, Anna Dickie, Ocula 7 Shows to See During Hong Kong Art Week 2025, Claire Shiying Li, Frieze Headed to Art Basel Hong Kong? You Need to Make Time for the City’s 13 Can’t-Miss Exhibitions, Giuliana Brida and Katie Kern, Cultured Shows to See in Hong Kong, March 2025, ArtAsiaPacific
The exhibition, along with TRST03 Covey Gong, will be on view through May 24, 2025.
Ophela Lai, on the occasion of Empty Gallery’s 10th anniversary, interviewed Stephen Cheng, our gallery founder, in the Financial Times: “A pitch-black art gallery — now that’s a bright idea: Empty Gallery, a ‘black-cube’ arts space situated in a Hong Kong high-rise, has a reputation for immersive, experimental experiences:
Hong Kong’s Empty Gallery envelops you in darkness. The lift doors open and, for the few seconds before your eyes adjust, there is nothing but a void — no walls, no doors, no floor. Stephen Cheng opened the gallery in 2015 in an industrial high-rise block in Aberdeen harbour. It is a “black cube”: an inversion of the white-walled space that has been the default for showing art since the 20th century. Born in New York, Cheng — the grandson of Hong Kong shipping magnate Yue Kong-Pao — was educated at Eton, and later Harvard where he studied photography and film history (and took classes with Nan Goldin). Darkrooms and cinemas became his favourite haunts. It was in dark spaces where art entered his life “in an irrevocable way”.
March 7, 2025 – ongoing
Tending and Dreaming: Stories from the Collection launches the first dedicated collection galleries at the Museum. Providing unprecedented access to core works in San José’s only publicly held art collection, the Museum invites a deeper sense of community pride in the collection.
The exhibition includes Tishan Hsu’s phone-breath-bed 3, 2023, which the museum acquired in 2024 for their permanent collection.
Initiated in 1973 under the guidance of San José artists, SJMA’s collection has grown to reflect our international point of convergence, where dynamic cultural diversity and high-tech industries mix in California soil. SJMA’s collection galleries position artists as storytellers to imagine the Museum as a space where culture and meaning are actively made and always in process. Organized into thematic groupings, Tending and Dreaming offers poetic starting points for engaging with ideas woven through the works of almost fifty artists from the Bay Area and beyond, including Ruth Asawa, Martha Atienza, Shilpa Gupta, Yolanda López, and Elias Sime, among many others.
There Is No Center at ROH Projects arrives not as a conventional presentation of artworks, but as an event in the truest sense—a disturbance in the usual flow of time. Extending beyond the gallery’s familiar five-week format, the twelve-week-long exhibition challenges the static nature of traditional exhibition-making, embracing a fluid proposition in which artworks enter and exit the exhibition at irregular intervals and for undisclosed periods, and performative actions instigate reconfigurations of how and where works are positioned. These movements establish ever-changing contexts and reconsideration of the works vis a vis in relation to each other, as well as in relation to themselves.
Raha Raissnia will be installing new paintings in the second week of March, and hosting a film-performance on March 9. Read more details at the link below.
Reina Sugihara fantasizes about breathing like a bird—having constant access to fresh air, as she told me, and being able to inhale and exhale deeply as if it were second nature. Inherited from their dinosaur ancestors, the nine to eleven air sacs attached to birds’ lungs allow for oxygen storage enabling effortless and effective breathing. In today’s stress-filled world where we need meditation and breathing classes for their constant reminders to respire deeply and correctly, these small, round, inconspicuous air sacs seem like something that might be as beneficial for humans as they are necessary for birds.
Emerging from the shadows of Empty Gallery’s customarily dark sanctum, Reina Sugihara’s paintings—softly illuminated by spotlights—exuded a quiet primordial force. Her abstract biomorphic forms, rendered in tones ranging from earthy to carnal, resemble blistering encrustations. The thickly painted canvases, some large enough to loom over the viewer, support viscous deposits of pigment and gesso that fissure as they dry. One thinks of scorched terrain, cooling lava, or half-healed wounds and scabs, but the associations are brief—the paintings resist legibility.
Installation view of Xper. Xr: Bad Timing.
Courtesy of the artist and Empty Gallery
Photo: Michael Yu
繼 《Tailwhip》之後,Empty Gallery 再度為大家帶來與Xper.Xr 二度合作的展覽 《Bad Timing》,展出的是 Xper.Xr 在近三十年間首度發佈的全新創作。 Xper 在香港藝術史中的位置極具開創性及啟導性,但其成就卻一直被忽視;可以說,Xper 幾乎是以單人匹馬之力,肩負起工業音樂、無浪潮和噪音音樂共同傳承中所體現的激進個人主義和反威權主義的各種潛力在一個地區的整體表現。 《Bad Timing》中這位從未停步的煽動者重拾他擱置已久的繪畫實踐 (他前次展出畫作已是1991年在Quart Society的事),當中更出現一種反常及出人意表的轉向,直指社會人像圖。
受到香港近年因政府施政不當、政治衝突及精英棄責所帶來的低氣壓挑動, 這組全新畫作描繪一班傾向背棄公眾信義的國際社政作俑者:由金融專家、科技權威到宗教領袖。每幅人像作品皆相稱於其取自經典流行曲曲目的譏諷式標題(例如「 MTV Makes Me Want To Smoke Crack」),此可視為是 Xper在其職業生涯中對具代表性曲調假意翻唱的執迷延伸轉移到繪畫這個媒介之上,且同時把社會的權力行使與文化產業的運作深刻徹骨地聯繫起來。
取材自公開照片,Xper首先在由豬片拉展而成的圓面上繪畫指涉人物的相像,然後對這人像進行類儀式性塗污,這種表現主義式的朦朧處理,使得出來的畫面充滿了人造膿液、粘液和其他物質所造成的耀目沉積床。這些帶宣洩性(並且非常幽默)的糟蹋痕跡指向這些作品是出自私人表演的隱密領域。它們暗示自身的功能是作為 Xper (可能是失敗的)治療嘗試以從他心智景觀中驅除某些特定公眾人物所帶來的毒性影響——一種在個體經驗與媒體認可共識現實兩者間邊界日益多孔的文化時刻中強而有力的關聯脈衝。然而,如果這些畫作籍它們的表現力在姿態上指向一種理想的控制,在這樣做之時它們是充分了解到這只是一種出自青少年幻想式的簡單動作——缺乏任何真正的政治效力,帶出的只是以黑色至極的幽默作為潛在阻力的一種形式。
雖然《Bad Timing》展出的人像畫作為宣洩憤怒多少帶著真摯的出口可能發揮了很好的作用,但就如 Xper 其他的創作實踐般,它們充斥著矛盾和自我破壞、死路和拐錯彎:在私下操縱中成自動毀滅的悲喜劇物品。它們預演甚至沈醉於其自身的社政失敗,把批評——藝術資本最吹噓的形式——搬演為自我撕破的鬧劇。這組畫作與觀者及彼此交換著合謀的目光,作為一個整體它們又似乎表達出一種了解恐懼的感覺:鬼崇惡意的一種模仿,或是潛伏於宏莊詭計背後一種龐大而可怕共謀的輪廓。當其優雅地指使空間的中央位置讓路予迷宮般的黑暗時,《Bad Timing》 讓人聯想到社政的未來不僅已被取消了回贖權,並且以某種方式故意妥協了——受制於一種永遠潛伏在我們集體意識邊緣之外的幽暗共識。